Blood Runs Red
by Books In the Blood
Summary: The doctor has lots of demons and he deals with them in the most unhealthy of ways; its not an answer but its the only way to feel at peace, if only for a moment. Warning: Contains self-harm


The doctor paced the hallway, back and forth, back and forth over and over again. He thought to keep track of how many times he walked the length of the hallway, hoping the counting would calm him, but he had lost track somewhere along the line. He'd been too focused on listening to the soft mumble of Amy and Rory's voices behind the door of their bedroom. He wanted to make sure that they were asleep before he snuck off to the security and secrecy of his own bedroom. He couldn't take the chance that they'd forgotten something or would need him for something after he'd gone into the darkness of his room.

It seemed like they were never going to sleep; it was so frustrating. It seemed like humans required so much sleep and yet when he actually wanted them asleep, they just kept _talking. _Did they know the battle that was raging inside of him? Didn't they know that the oppressive darkness in his soul was threatening to kill him if he didn't do something about it? Anger, sadness, chocking loneliness was weighing down on him like a force that almost couldn't be controlled. He almost gave up the fight to keep it inside as the sound of Amy and Rory's voices kept drowning on.

Hearts pounding, need ripping his hearts apart….he pressed his hands on his head as the pressure mounted in his temple; his ears perked when he heard silence behind the door. He paused, hands still clutching his head as he listened to the glorious sound of silence. After a several minutes of unbroken silence, the doctor began to walk towards his own bedroom, his feet stumbling every few steps. Excitement jumped in his stomach and made its way through his entire body, traveling through his arms and to his fingers, making them tingle, down his legs and into his toes. His breath caught his chest as his hearts skipped a beat or two; he was filled the adrenaline high he got from the knowledge that what he was about to do was wrong but that it was going to end his pain and that was good enough to keep him going.

The doctor slipped into his bedroom and quickly locked the door behind him; he didn't need any distractions. He knew that Amy and Rory would stop him if they saw what he was going to do; they'd probably see him for the twisted, sick person he was. They'd insist that he not hurt himself but they didn't understand. They were so young, babies practically; they didn't understand that weight of what 900 years of living could do to a person. Plus they had each other….they weren't alone.

He walked to his bed, sitting back on it comfortably as he loosened his suspenders and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. He was ashamed of the way his hands shook as they moved his sleeve up. He was disturbed, revolting…..he should be ashamed of what he was doing. But all he felt was a rush of excitement run though his veins, veins that would soon be spilling his blood. The darkness, the sense of urgency inside him was like the raging of the ocean; wave after wave after wave…..pushing toward him and crashing down violently. He just wanted it to end.

The doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and ran his fingers over the metal, excitement and shame warring in him. What would Amy say if she could see him right now? Sure she had no understanding of what he was feeling but she would be upset, horrified maybe. Maybe she should see him; she could see him for what he was and not be dazzled by the hero impression that she had formed of him. He was not a hero….she should know that. All he did was destroy things….including himself. If Amy saw him right now he would feel so ashamed….part of him wished to be caught, for her to know his pain. Part of him wanted to be exposed, embarrassed. Maybe something she could say could make him stop….._probably not, though….._

But as confusing and tempting as those feelings were, they couldn't stop the eagerness in him. They couldn't stop the need from pressing in on him; he just had to make the pain stop. The doctor turned the sonic screwdriver on and traced the fingers of his right hand along the skin on his left arm. The smooth skin didn't tell the story of his dark habit, didn't show how many times he'd been weak; he made sure of that. He made sure that he healed and treated the wounds so that they never left a permanent mark.

Finally deciding on a spot of his arm, he turned the sonic screwdriver toward it, wincing slightly as the layers of his skin were peeled away and drops of blood began to bead on the incision. The drops grew larger and heavier before they began to run down his arm in a wonderful, crimson stream. The sight was simply splendid but he had to keep going; he continued to dig into the cut that he had made, digging deeper until he felt white hot pain. He bit his lip to keep from calling out, tasting the metallic flavor of blood in his mouth from the hard bite. Blood was pouring more freely now that the cut was deep and the doctor watched the slow and steady river of red travel from his cut, down his hand, over his fingers and dripping onto the sheets; that would bother him later, seeing the blood on his bed. But right now, watching it calmed him. His heart was beating quickly, exhilaratingly, the deep emptiness inside him was slowly being brought to the light. But the pain he was feeling wasn't nearly enough; no matter how many nights he did this it wasn't enough to atone for his sins. For all the people that he'd hurt….he had to remind himself that it was his fault that he was alone.

So, he allowed the sonic to continue to keep cutting alone his skin as he thought about the people that he'd destroyed, the lives that would never be the same for his awful influence in them. Amy and Rory were with him now, they were fine….but it was only a matter of time before they got tired of the danger and settled down. Either that or they would end up dead….all because of him. He would destroy them….look what had happened to Donna. She thought traveling with him was going to be the best thing in the world; he'd taken her whole wonderful personaility away and left her to live a dull life as a mere shell of herself. What choice did he have? The only other choice was death. Martha had known that….that's why she got out. Her whole family had been threatened as a result of her being around him. That's why she left him….why she didn't want him. He put her in danger; the only good thing that could be gained from the whole experience was that she had gotten away from him before she or her family ended up dead. And Rose…..

Rose Tyler; pain shot through him at the memory of her. So much of his time traveling he'd felt alone despite the emergence of new companions almost constantly. But when Rose had been around, he had not felt lonely at all. Things with her had seemed right from the beginning. When he'd asked her to travel with him he'd been hoping desperately that she would say yes. Already he knew that she was different and he wanted her by his side. Traveling with her had been different than anyone else he'd ever known. It had been so easy to know her, things were so comfortable. He never got tired of having her around and he always was left wanting more. Leaving her once had been hard enough but having to leave her a second time was horrible. It had ripped his hearts to pieces….most of the time he was fine. Most of the time it was in the past but in the dark, alone…..he couldn't keep it at bay.

"Doctor….are you okay?" Amy's voice roused the doctor from the dark place in his mind. He looked down at his arm which was riddled with deep cuts, blood splattered across his shirt, pants and sheets. Each cut stung and burned so deeply that his hearts were beating at an irregular pace and he was gasping for air. His hands were shaking and he felt slightly dizzy as he looked at the large amount of blood splashed everywhere. He didn't feel alarmed like he should; the weight that had been pressing on him so desperately was gone. He felt _relieved. _

The doctor realized that he must have called out on accident, alerting Amy. "Y-yes….I'm fine" he called out, making his voice sound as normal as possible.

Amy wasn't convinced. "You screamed" she said hesitantly.

"Oh….I just uh…..stubbed my toe" The doctor lied. "Thought I broke it, but it's just a little bruise"

"Are you sure?" Amy asked. Her tone said she didn't believe him.

"Yes….I'm fine, really I'm fine" the doctor said. He looked at the blood running down his arm, starting to coagulate in some places.

"I could come in? Look at it for you?" Amy insisted. She couldn't even if she tried; he was glad for the lock.

"Oh, no…I'm not decent" The doctor said with a laugh. "Really, I'm fine. I'm just lying in bed ready to go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning" His tone was pleasant but urged her to drop it.

"Okay…..I guess I'll see you then" Amy said confusedly before the doctor heard her footsteps go back down the hall. Now that the pressing need, the hurt, the pain was over the doctor had absolutely no desire for anyone to know. Surely the ache that had been inside him would not press against him that hard again….

The doctor slowly got off the bed, taking care to not damage his arm anymore. He walked to his small, adjoined bathroom, running his arm under the water in the sink, cringing slightly as it touched the tender cuts. He watched the red stream of water run down the sink to distract himself. When all the blood was gone, he pulled out his healing cream, looking at the deepness of the cuts and hoping that these would heal without scars as well; he'd lost himself in his thoughts. He hadn't meant to cut that deeply. He smeared the cream generously over the multiple incisions, wincing at the sweet pain the action produced. He pulled out the gauze and wrapped it delicately around his arm, all the way from his wrist to his elbow. He ran his hand over the arm which was still throbbing in pain and smiled; much better.

As he went back into his room and saw the blood splattered all over his bed and clothes he suddenly felt like he had no energy to deal with it right now. Sleep was so often elusive but now all he wanted was to fall face first into his bed. He moved to the side of the bed he hadn't been sitting on which was mostly undotted by the crimson and fell down on it asleep. In the morning he would be ashamed when he woke up and saw the mess, in the morning he'd regret it. He'd remember how damaged he was, how disgusting….but right now his mind was _silent. _Right now he didn't have to see the faces of so many that would give him nightmares. Right now he was at peace.


End file.
